thesaurusfr

[thesaurusfr]

you. flight rising user. put excel proficiency on your resume.

[thesaurusfr]

one of the dumb things i like about flight rising is that you can just dissolve familiars for alchemy ingredients. like what the fuck. some nice centaur comes out of the woods like “I Have Seen Your Deeds And I Submit Myself To Your Clan To Learn About You” and youre just like fantastic. get in the cauldron

[thesaurusfr]

I haven’t been involved in FR in literal years but I’m reblogging this anyway because damn that is one adorable Minecraft dragon

today I splurged on completing... Minecraft! she would love some likes! ^^

[thesaurusfr]

WHAT THIS IS SO COOL

Obbies my beloved. This took so much time, but it was worth it. I might give it some actual textures one day!

[thesaurusfr]

I can’t believe they gave us such an amazing offer

[thesaurusfr]

You’re laughing. The pixel dragon economy is in shambles and you’re LAUGHING.

[thesaurusfr]

I love having a perfectly functioning and normal family that has no problems communicating and have no grudges against each other

[thesaurusfr]

new ancient new ancient new ancient new anci

[thesaurusfr]

FR: “yeah we don’t know how long will the maintenance take, but the site will be unavailable” Me at 09:00:05, hitting F5: dragons? dragons? dra g o n s??

[thesaurusfr]

I’d like to nominate @hungrytundras for worlds funniest tag

[thesaurusfr]

I feel like Cumulus is holding artifacts just crying

[thesaurusfr]

b-braids?!

bRAIDS?!

BRAIDS :D

B R A I D S!!!!!!!!!

[thesaurusfr]

Pirate, privateer - what does it matter, really? You and I both know the difference is just a bit of paperwork. Money is money darling, and my employers are smart enough to ignore my methods of getting it - maybe you should be too."

Born in Arkon and raised on the open sea, Gallahan was barely out of the egg when he was given his first job as a cabin boy. Like most of the street urchins in Arkon, Gallahan had been abandoned to his fate by a poverty stricken clan that he never got to know, but something separated him from the rest of the orphans sleeping in alleyways - ambition, and an early realization that in this world, money is everything.

As soon as he could, he got a job on the Corinth, a merchant vessel running the trade routes to the Ashfall Waste. He took to the sea almost immediately, and quickly became an adept sailor. Time and time again, he proved his intelligence, skill, and natural talent - yet, he never got any recognition. Well, he never got any positive recognition. Despite his obvious potential, the ship's captain, a dragon with a quick temper and a quicker claw, hated the boy. More often than not, Gallahan would find himself berated and beaten for the smallest mistakes, and there was no hope of getting the captain to listen to anything he had to say.

And he certainly had a LOT to say. His sharp mind and careful eye for finances allowed Gallahan to notice that the ship's quartermaster had been skimming off the crew's already pitiful salaries, as well as hiding cargo, writing the concealed goods off as 'lost in transit' and selling them at port himself. Although Gallahan didn't have any moral quarrel with the man (in his mind, morality was for fools and those fortunate enough to never have never had to worry about their next meal) he was enraged by the theft of the money that should have been his. Driven on by anger and the encouragement of the only other dragon to notice the discrepancy, Silver, Gallahan attempted to inform the captain of the quartermaster's deceit.

It went...poorly.

Bloodly, bruised, and humiliated in front of his unsympathetic crew mates, Gallahan slunk off into the bowls of the ship to nurse his wounds. When he cried, they were not tears of sadness or agony, but tears of rage. After he recovered, he made himself seem outwardly submissive, obedient to the captain's every command, but behind the mask his hate for the man grew stronger every day. He promised himself that the moment he got the chance, he'd kill him, the quartermaster, and every other sailor who'd ignored and belittled his pain - he just had to bide his time. And bide his time he did, until one day, he spotted his chance.

While unloading cargo in the Ashfall Wastes, the merchant crew heard that a Hydra had been terrorizing the nearby ports, and that anyone who managed to kill the beast and bring back one of it's many heads would be paid handsomely for the trouble. The Corinth's captain, eager for some extra coin, accepted the offer, docked the ship outside the coastal cavern the monster called it's home, and when it attempted to leave the cave, blasted it with the canons. Unsure if it was really dead, and still looking to make an example out of him for his insolence, the older dragon sent Gallahan into the cave alone to make sure the beast was really dead. When he went in, Gallahan found the smoldering corpse of the Hydra...as well as a small, dark niche in the wall, with three pairs of glowing yellow eyes peering out.

It was all too easy to smuggle the little serpent onboard in the chaos of victory, and feeding it wasn't a problem; it soon grew strong off scraps stolen from the captain's own plate. When the Hydra was a juvenile, towering over Gallahan and far too large for the crate he'd stashed it in, he launched his attack. The deaths of the crew were swift and brutal - he even had mercy on the quartermaster, only letting his dear Scylla toy with the man for a few moments before ripping off his head - but the captain? Oh, he dragged that one out as long as he could.

It was more of a massacre than a mutiny. When the bloodbath was over, the only survivors were Gallahan, Scylla, and Silver, his only ally aboard the vessel. The old Snapper became the new quarter master and the first official member of Gallahan's crew. Together they repainted the old ship, disguising her under shiny new colours and a shiny new name - the Hydra. By the time they reached port at Arkon and recruited a new group of sailors to serve under Gallahan, all that remained of her bloody past were a few unrecognizable corpses buried deep beneath the sea.

Gallahan terrorized the sea as a pirate for many years, and his reputation spread across the currents quickly - it's hard to forget a ship with a full grown Hydra coiled around it's masts. It was only recently, after the Tidelord vanished and Gallahan began to pray to another, more devious entity, that he accepted an offer from the Bright Corporation to become a privateer. Although he's not used to answering to any authority other than his own, he's enjoying the influx of cash - the ability to walk into his hometown and flaunt his success without being arrested doesn't hurt either.

[thesaurusfr]

Ladies, gentleman, and non-binary nobility, Midnight’s bio! The headshot was done by @torch on fr!

As you can see, it’s not totally finished, but I am done with his lore! I’ll post the full, non-screenshot version of it below:

Before his mysterious disappearance, Midnight was known throughout Sornieth for his musical talent. The Wildclaw begun showing his aptitude for rhythm at a young age, spending much of his time as a hatchling tapping rocks against the walls of his cavernous home to create sounds and patterns of repetition that had a strange, hollow beauty.

It was when one of his clan mates brought home an enchanted viola that they had found on a hunt that Midnight really got a chance to shine. After a few days of admiring the instrument, studying it's curves and carvings, and finally daring to lay a claw on it's strings, Midnight discovered that the Viola was not enchanted, but haunted, possessed by a silent spirit that could draw haunting melodies from it's polished wooded home. Although they could not communicate through words, they learned to speak to each other through the language of music, and before long the Viola's spirit began to take a liking to the young dragon. Under the haunter's tutelage, Midnight's gift thrived, and simple talent was soon accompanied by careful technique and practiced skill.

His mastery of the viola soon allowed him to rise to prominence within his birth clan, but that didn't satisfy him, and as soon as he could, he set off into the world. Everywhere he went, he enchanted people with his ghostly melodies, and in return for his songs, he asked to be presented with whatever instrument was most prominent in the local area. Although the viola would always be his weapon of choice, Midnight began to master other instruments as well, becoming highly skilled in a variety of musical styles. His musical skill, now capable of fitting whatever instrument and genre the listener liked best, was soon in high demand, and wealthy clans began to pay him large sums of money to compose and preform pieces suited exactly to their tastes. With each job, his fame grew, which only further fed his bank account.

When Midnight became wealthy enough to stop taking every job that came along, he stopped catering to the musical appetites of others and started feeding his own. He'd present these compositions in grand stadiums, to sold out crowds who packed the seats, excited to hear the famed musician finally play from the heart - but more often than not, they were left...disturbed. Amazed at his skill and the beauty of his music, yes, but still disturbed. Something was odd about his compositions - something dark and very, very strange. Still, although it was off putting to some, many praised him as a genius, and he played to a full house every time.

When there were no more instruments left to master, and when even his own haunting music couldn't still his restless soul, he set himself upon his greatest challenge yet - to create an instrument of his very own, something to speak the words that he could not, that would capture the ghastly depths of the universe itself. He stopped all public appearances indefinitely, and threw all of his vast wealth behind the mission, leaving his lavish home in the Windswept Plateau in favor of a custom built lab deep within the Starwood Strand, which he filled with a team of skilled craftsman and talented mages to aid him in his mission.

He never re-emerged, and no one on the development team was ever seen again. When search teams tried to locate the laboratory, they found nothing but an empty clearing where the building had once been.

No one really knows what happened, but it was rumored that, inspired by his dear familiar, Midnight attempted to build his new instrument to harness the magical currents of the astral plane, and the strange creatures that lived within. Some dragons whisper of a letter, sent by a member of the research staff before the laboratory's disappearance, that told a frightening story of an obsessed musician slowly losing his mind, pushing his staff to dig farther and farther into the magical void until finally, they reached something that could not be controlled. Some even say that the fabled instrument was completed, a strange and beautiful machine that manipulated the currents of reality itself to create it's ghastly sound. These whisperers tell of a first and final concert, a night when, after the device was finally ready, the virtuoso channeled the madness that had festered and flourished within his mind into one great and terrible melody, wiping the development center and everyone in it from the face of the earth and, if the stories are true, awaking something within the darkness that should never have been disturbed.

I had a lot of fun with this! I VERY LOOSELY of based Midnight on Leon Theremin, with the theremin being the instrument he creates at the end of his lore. I tried to write his bio in a more biographical style, as if it were written by an outsider giving a brief summary of Midnight’s life and accomplishments to the reader - however, this resulted in some stuff being lost, as, logically, the narrator wouldn’t know Midnight’s true feelings and motivations. This isn’t really a problem until the end of Midnight’s story.

The reason Midnight begins creating his instrument is not out of boredom or a desire to better his art, but out of fear. Midnight is terrified of death, and using his music to gain acclaim was his way of coping with that - he was very attached to the idea that he would “live on” through his music. However, when there was a lull in the constant cycle of education and composition that he immersed himself in, he realized that his ART, his LEGACY, his NAME would be what was remembered, NOT HIM. Not really. Midnight, the person (dragon) would be forgotten, idolized and therefore dehumanized, and his legacy would keep him about as alive as a marble sculpture - sure it looks pretty, but it’s really just a cold, inanimate hunk of stone. These existential musings made him desperate for a way to keep himself alive, and so, inspired by his familiar, he began looking for a way to put his soul in an object.

He’s an arrogant dragon, so of course, he couldn’t just find some spell to link his soul to any old junk that was lying around - no, he had to have the perfect vessel, and one that would grant him more autonomy than a normal possessed object - one that would grant him power. Hence, the device. The final concert WAS meant to destroy his physical form, but only that - not the rest of the lab. See, he was meddling with forces he didn’t really understand, and this outpouring of music and power and insanity into the void caught the attention of something that you probably don’t want interested in you. So when he woke up after playing the song, he didn’t find himself as an instrument, but he DID find himself with another, more...interesting way of keeping himself alive. 

[thesaurusfr]

Gijinkas in South Shore Lore

Thought I’d make this to help clear this up both for myself and for everyone else. 

The creation and use of bipedal forms or ‘half forms’ is a school of magic originally used by the eleven and passed down to dragon kind upon their creation. Half forms are smaller and more dexterous than full forms in most cases and are convenient for performing complex tasks.

The art of bodily transformation is a spectrum from full dragon to fully ‘human’ with all manner of possibilities in between. The more features one changes about them self, the less magic they must use to maintain their changed form. This means that more dragon like forms can be maintained for much longer and is why most keep their natural markings, horns, claws, tail, etc. 

A 'strong’ half form will last someone with average sized magical well about two weeks before they must revert to full form and restock. This accounts for extra magic reserved for spell casting in half form. The average dragon can keep up a weak half form for months. The deities have large enough reserves to keep a strong half form for years at a time, but rarely do for they have no reason to. 

From this art, comes another form of magic. Bodily modification involved the alteration of small parts of ones form. This is much easier than full transformation and has grown in popularity over the last centuries. The practice began with guardians who modded their claws, giving themselves opposable thumbs. From there, the art spread through the other breeds all but killing the practice of full transformation. 

Because of this, modern clans will most often be mostly, if not entirely full form dragons with mods where needed. Most hatchlings of larger breeds are taught early on to reduce their size in order to better interact with others.

[thesaurusfr]

Update: immediently lost my wallet this morning, luck has run out and yknow what, understandable

I had the worlds greatest coli luck yesterday and finished this guy WAY ahead of schedule! I was saving two weeks and bam - new venue comes out and he’s done overnight! Really happy with him!!

Any outfit suggestions?

[thesaurusfr]

I had the worlds greatest coli luck yesterday and finished this guy WAY ahead of schedule! I was saving two weeks and bam - new venue comes out and he’s done overnight! Really happy with him!!

Any outfit suggestions?